


Perfect

by AWheelchairGirl (learninghowtobreathe)



Series: MC more like OC [2]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Torture, Cutting, F/M, Non-Consensual Violence, Non-Graphic Smut, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self Indulgent As Fuck, Sexual Violence, Vaginal Sex, Yandere, graphic rape so pls be careful, idk what else there is basically rape and torture okay, therapeutic writing is amazing y'all, this is yandere Jumin we all waited for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 00:31:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9148786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/learninghowtobreathe/pseuds/AWheelchairGirl
Summary: You married him, knowing he's obsessive. But you miscalculated just exactly how much.This is yandere Jumin and lots of violence basically.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [middendorffi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/middendorffi/gifts).



> This is definitely non-con, so be warned. I'm a rape survivor myself and writing that…it was so liberating to me. So it's self indulgence and therapeutic writing, but we all like yandere Jumin so I decided to share it. Sorry in advance.  
> I didn't finish proofreading cause I cried. 
> 
> \----------
> 
> I promised @middendorffi that I'll tag her in a dark fic and so here it is! It's just...so so dark I'm sorry

 

PERFECT.

You should've known better. You fucking should've know.  
But you never do, do you? You always fall headfirst into the flame, and that was it, the final step you won't be recovering from.

  
You were suffocating, the room lacking air, you didn't remember when was the last time you breathed in anything else than dust in here. Cuts on your body stung as you were moved over the harsh carpet, again and again, back and forth, forced by his powerful thrusts.

  
It wasn't a game anymore, not like your teenage reckless behaviors, drugs you took, boys and girls you fucked. And you never really learned to space out when he did it to you.

  
You should've know. He was obsessive from the beginning after all, wasn't he? But who isn't when you're in love, you rationalized to yourself. It sounded so romantic to you then. You was going to be the one to fix him, to untangle threads in him. You were a jealous lover just like him, you thought, you belonged to each other, it was fate.

  
How can fate be so cruel.

  
He crashes his lips onto yours and pushes his fingers into the deep gash on your cheek. It hurts, but what doesn't at this point, you lost the feeling on your body, became only pain. You hear yourself wheeze, not even knowing you did that.

  
“Say you're mine.” His voice is low, husky, and to think you once thought it to be arousing…  
You know silence will only bring more pain, and besides that, isn't he right? You're his, he owns you now, and that's gonna be how you leave this world.  
So you whisper the words, nausea overcoming you.

  
He rubs your clit forcefully and you know what comes next. He’ll force you to come, and you will, and the precious couple of seconds you'll feel no pain. It will be worse when it comes back, but you'd die for these couple of seconds. For them, you don't even mind if he rapes you, not anymore.  
You shut your eyes when it comes, choking on his name as he demands you to say it.

  
You yelp when the cut comes. Why? You were a good girl, you desperately think. You said his name. You said you're his. You fucking orgasmed. Why.  
“You will always remember you're mine.” He's so focused, his whisper sharp. “Your scars are so pretty. They'll be even more beautiful when they spell my name.”

  
He's working on your stomach, but you cannot even tell, there's too much pain and it's everywhere.

  
It's been a month. You never knew wounds turn into scars so quickly, but now you're covered in them, from your arms to feet, cuts on your toes even.

  
He finished his handiwork, you realize. He drags you upwards to sit, and you feel bandages on your stomach. Of course. He cares for you so well.  
You always have perfect haircut, he washes your hair and styles it for you, always showing your ears. Perfect makeup, red lipstick when he forces you to kiss him. He picks perfect outfits for you, dressing your up like a huge doll. And you remind a doll now. You have no strength, no will left in you.  
He even paints your nails.  
Perfect, perfect, everything must be perfect.

  
You don't know how much time passes when he fixes your hair and dresses you up. You feel gross, filled with his come. But when you don't, really.

  
He kisses you softly on the lips and you stifle a bitter laugh bubbling in your chest.  
Oh, how he praises you, how adorable, beautiful, how fucking perfect you are. You want to scream, but you smile the fake, cute smile at him. Maybe there will be no more pain today.  
He poses you on the couch, curled over him. It would be better if he kept you in the cage, you think. But no, you're a prisoner in his penthouse, held back by cameras, GPS, fucking guards, never alone, always watched. You're a prisoner in the most comfortable prison in the world.

  
And nobody but you two knows.

  
You think about screaming it when he takes you to meet others sometimes. To run. To yell to Zen to save you, he promised after all. To be Yoosung for help. You see Jaehee so often and she never realized.

  
Your dress is always long and covering your scarred, abused body. The wound on your cheek? Oh, that's unfortunate, regrettable, he feels terrible it happened, how could it? You're just so, so clumsy sometimes.

  
Sometimes you wonder when you'll finally get pregnant from all this fucking. Surely it will happen. Will he kill you then? You grew to dream about it.

  
He presses a smartphone into your hands. His smile is kind, but there's a threat you learned to be terrified of hidden behind it.

  
“How about you go into the chatroom now, princess?”

  
Your smile is hurting on your face. You nod. You're dizzy. Maybe you'll pass out finally, and it will all end.

  
Yoosung and Zen are in, and they discuss Zen’s newest role. What was that? You don't remember. Sometimes you forget your own name.  
Zen’s usual bickering with Jumin starts, and you struggle to find words that won't make them suspicious. The thing is, he won't kill you if you tell someone, he said. He’ll keep you by his side forever, and you know the more torture will come, over and over and over.  
So you’re being a good girl. Always a good girl.

  
Suddenly there's a hand on your neck, and you're suffocating, there's not enough air. Hand disappears as suddenly. He looks at you with a sharp, terrifyingly focused eyes.  
“I trust you'll give a good answer here, princess.” His teeth are so sharp when he smiles like that, oh god. You remember them biting out piece of your flesh all too well.  
You look into the chatroom and see what he got so agitated about.

ZEN: is this jerk treating you good at least?  
ZEN: you were so silent when we met last time~

You are dizzy, so dizzy…you take a deep breath, smile brighter unconsciously, even though you are aware he cannot see you. But. Just in case.

JUMIN HAN: my princess wasn't feeling too well the last time, right, MC?  
MC: yes, I think I was catching a flu~

You send a smiling emoji. Seven even made you your own emojis now. You're Jumin’s wife after all. Will stay in RFA forever.  
Forever with him.

ZEN: But is he treating you well?

Jumin looks at you. You choke. You breathe deeper.  
You smile. Bright, so so bright, looking at him.

MC: Jumin’s perfect. My husband is always perfect.

 

***

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr as bitterlesbiangrandma.
> 
> Also fun fact! All this talk about how too much pain makes you lose feeling of your body is my own experience based! The more you know!


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